


Bruises, Bottles and Bloody Kisses

by notmyrevolution



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 19:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmyrevolution/pseuds/notmyrevolution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It always starts with them in a bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruises, Bottles and Bloody Kisses

It always starts with them in a bar.

They like Irish bars, because they play songs about drinking and songs about fighting, but they’re not picky. They’ll start quiet, drinks between the two of them and a casual conversation about what Grantaire is going to paint next. Then someone will knock over Bahorel’s glass, spilling beer into his lap.

Grantaire will laugh, because it’s not like Bahorel needs an excuse. He’ll pat Bahorel on the back of his head, where his hair is shaved in an undercut, and say _don’t make me drag you out of here_  and Bahorel will look at him, offended and say _you’re not joining me?_

They’ll always get kicked out. They’ll land on the sidewalk and laugh some more. Bahorel will wipe the blood off his lower lip and stare at the red stain on his thumb, and his grin will always be like a wolf’s. Grantaire will have an impressive bruise on his cheek in a few days. They’ll get to their feet, leaning into each other as they walk, caused in part by alcohol and in part by adrenaline.

They’ll get to where the normally part ways, and Bahorel will smack Grantaire on the back of the neck, his usual goodbye in lieu of a hug, but his hand will linger a fraction too long. Grantaire will notice, and he’ll look up Bahorel and he’ll offer _back to mine?_

They always go to Grantaire’s. Because Grantaire lives with Jehan, and Jehan never blinks when Bahorel is there in the morning, and Jehan keeps their secrets.

It’s not serious. It never will be. They’re taking comfort in the familiar because they can’t have the unknown. They do this because Bahorel likes painters, they’re his favourite, but it’s not  _this_  painter he wants. It’s not inky curls he wants to see streaks of vermilion through, because that contrasts and Bahorel wants to see it blend. They do this because Grantaire is lonely, but he doesn’t care, and  _whatever man, it’s not like I’m going to fall in love with you_ , because Grantaire has always preferred blondes.

So they slot together. Bahorel’s arms easily hold his weight over Grantaire, and Grantaire’s leg easily goes over Bahorel’s shoulder.  _Fucking gymnasts_  Bahorel will mutter into the juncture of Grantaire’s neck. Grantaire will laugh, and he’ll keep laughing until Bahorel stops him. Then he’ll groan, he’ll score nails down Bahorel’s back and he’ll  _fuck fuck don’t stop don’t you dare stop you asshole._

Even this is a fight. Grantaire will mouth at tattoos and roll his hips the way he rolls his Rs. Bahorel will snap forward, aiming to bruise, fingers finding hips and anchoring as he takes what is his for the night. Calloused fingers will find bloody knuckles, and they’ll hold together as they shout names into each other’s mouths. Grantaire will always say  _Bahorel_  as he arches and Bahorel will always groan  _R_  as his arms stop holding him up. They don’t pretend because this isn’t settling, it’s just different.

In the morning, Bahorel will stretch like an oversized cat, and Grantaire will laugh at the way his hair sticks up everywhere. They’ll shower together, and sometimes they’ll fuck and sometimes they won’t. They’ll go downstairs, Grantaire will make his coffee and Jehan, with all the beauty of the morning sun, will heap pancakes on plates and kiss them both on the cheek.

Later, they’ll walk into the cafe. Bahorel’s arm will be slung over Grantaire’s shoulder. Bahorel will have a cigarette packet in his pocket, but he doesn’t smoke and it’s not Grantaire’s brand. Grantaire will order a drink and slouch in his chair, and he’ll smirk at the way someone keeps trying not to look at him, or the angry mark on his neck.

Then they’ll finish, their friends will filter out, Grantaire will look at the time and Bahorel will say  _let’s find a bar._


End file.
